D E V A S T A T I O N
by HiarDragon2006
Summary: Was it genocide or a holy event? Choose a side. Rated M for all the right reasons, this is NOT your typical Pokemon story.
1. New Beginnings

Author's Note:

This is a follow-up to "D R E A D". If you didn't read that, there's a few parts you won't understand in this.

For the rest of you:

It's been several agonizing weeks. I refuse to write crappy material, and this has gone through several re-writes. Here's the first part, be brutal, let me know what you think. I appreciate the support! (also, the "Jessie" discussed in this chapter is NOT the one of Team Rocket)

* * *

DEVASTATION

Chapter 1

* * * *

It began with a howling roar, and a rip through the clouds.

A bubbling, burning rage that seethed and grew until it could no longer be contained.

Over the weeks it spread, lying in wait, biding its time.

When it struck, its insatiable hunger consumed the minds and bodies of all the world's Pokemon.

Within 72 hours humans fled their burning cities in droves.

The consuming rage is what brought this destruction.

And consume it did, until Pokemon Island was no more.

This is no longer a world of Pokemon Heroes.

This is a world of D E V A S T A T I O N

* * * *

15 Years Later

* * * *

Foxx awoke the same way he always did.

Naked, sweaty, and still dizzy from the night before.

He knocked an empty bottle of vodka over as he tugged on a pair of jeans. In his bed, Jessie sighed and rolled away from him. It was still early and she was on a completely different sleep schedule. He mused how much of a lightweight she was when it came to booze. He walked into the bathroom, took a leak and wiped grime from the mirror.

He was going to have to shave again. Sawing through hair with a combat knife was no picnic; he seldom kept up on his hygiene, but this was getting ridiculous. The toilet gurgled and he turned his attention away from the mirror. The water pressure was all fucked up, he would have to get Barry to take a look at it.

"Piece of shit." he muttered. He really needed a drink.

The fact that they had a semi-working toilet was nothing short of luxury, sometimes he joked they were spoiled. Then again it sure beat wiping his ass with a leaf. He frowned at the memory and left the bathroom. Barry was waiting at the end of the hallway.

"Hey dickhead." Barry called. "You gonna help me out here or what?"

"Shut up, Jessie's still sleeping." Foxx hissed. "What do you want?"

Barry flashed his teeth. His gums were rotting, Foxx was never sure if he was smiling or sneering at him.

"You and your bitch." he muttered. He hoisted a backpack onto his bare shoulders and beckoned Foxx to follow. They picked their way down the utility staircase and out into the lobby. Among the dust choked countertops and chairs ripe with mold, the sign "Wilson Hotel" was beginning to unhinge from the ceiling.

"What do you think?" Foxx asked. Barry shrugged.

"I don't know." He admitted. "If we take it down, someone's gonna notice. If we let it fall on its own, someone's gonna notice."

"So you're saying it's time to move."

"Pretty much."

"When?" Foxx was looking back toward the staircase.

"Stop worrying about the fucking chick, man," Barry grunted. "Jesus Christ, will you just relax?"

"Why don't you kiss my ass?" Foxx hissed. "What the fuck's the matter with you?"

"The matter with me?" Barry positioned himself in front of Foxx. His hand touched on the hilt of his knife. Foxx watched him carefully. "The matter with me is that we're a fucking TEAM, dickhead, and ever since you met up with that chick, all you care about is FUCKING, and leaving all the work to me."

"Fuck you." Foxx spat. "If it were you, it wouldn't be a big deal. We're fine. Jesus, we have enough food to last us--"

"Until the end of next week." Barry interrupted. "Get your head out of your ass."

Foxx sneered at him and Barry turned away. He marched up to sign and stood below it, inspecting the hinges.

"We should leave today." he suggested, leering over at Foxx. "What do you say?"

Foxx bit his lower lip. Barry was right, Foxx just didn't like his attitude about the whole situation. Then again living with a guy like Barry was never easy.

"Fine." he grumbled. "I'll go let Jessie know."

Barry waved him off and walked across the lobby. Before he left, Foxx scooped a nearly empty bottle of whiskey and took a swig. Nectar of the Gods. He returned to their hotel room, where Jessie was beginning to stir.

"What time is it?" she whispered. Foxx tossed the bottle aside and climbed on top of her.

"No idea." he said softly. He looked through the crack in the rotting curtains. The sun was peeking over the devastated skyline of the city. "Probably ten."

"How'd you sleep?" she asked, wrapping her arms around him.

"Good." Foxx lied. Jessie smirked.

"You're going to have to try harder than that."

"Like you care."

Jessie pulled him down, rolled him over and straddled him.

"If I didn't would I be here?"

"Good point."

Jessie sighed and relaxed her hips. She began to unbuckle Foxx's pants when he stopped her.

"You smell like whiskey." she muttered.

"Barry wants to leave today."

"Fuck 'em." Jessie answered, going back to Foxx's pants. He stopped her again.

"He wants to go without you."

Jessie rolled her eyes and pulled off her shirt.

"So just the usual." she replied. She lowered her chest toward Foxx's. He cupped her breasts in his hands.

"And you're okay with that?"

"Shut up." she grunted, grinding her hips against the crook of his jeans. "Take your fucking pants off."

"Angry sex is the best." Foxx mused, lowering his hands to pull down his pants. "Did you finish that vodka last night?"

They were almost off when Jessie paused. She cocked her head toward the door, listening intently. Foxx glanced at her, then at the door.

"What is it?" he asked. Jessie rolled off of Foxx, pulled on a shirt and crept toward the door.

"Voices."

"Barry's downstairs."

"It's not just him."

Foxx sat up. He was amazed by her. Ten years of being on the run and she was more honed in to her surroundings than he was. Slowly Foxx buckled his jeans and slid off the bed. His belt was lying on the floor, he pulled his knife from the sheath on it and met Jessie outside the room.

She stood poised, listening intently. It was a floor below but there were distinct voices drifting through the vents.

"Expecting company?" she asked sarcastically, her eyes meeting his. He shrugged.

"Meet me in the lobby. Be careful." she said, brushing her hand against his. He looked at her and glanced back at the hallway. Before he left the room he inspected a bottle near the door. Just his luck, empty.

"Fuck today." He muttered, and quickly made his way toward the utility stairwell.

Downstairs Barry was standing in the lobby. There were two people standing opposite from him. The man had a revolver pointed at Barry's head.

"..like I said." Barry said firmly, hands in the air. He was speaking loudly on purpose. "It's only me, and I was just crouching here for the night."

"Bullshit." the man seethed. He cocked back the trigger.

"What the fuck, man?" Barry protested. "You're just going to kill me? what the..c'mon, dude, I'm half naked for chrissakes. I'm a normal guy, like you! I'm just getting by."

"BULLSHIT!" the man pressed. "I know just what you are, I'm not an idiot. You're a fucking rapist and a thief! if it's not the fucking Poke'mon we have to worry about.."

Foxx was crouched in the shadows by the staircase. His hand was on his knife. He was still too far away to throw it, and even then he was a lousy aim. Not like it would matter, he was still a little dizzy from last night. Barry's back was to him, he was speaking loudly to get Foxx's attention.

Mission accomplished, but this situation needed to be handled delicately. The young couple were rattled, dirty, and just as grimy as Foxx and Barry. They meant business. Foxx didn't know how many rounds were left in that revolver, if any. Most scavengers shaved down pebbles to look like bullets. It could be anything.

Best not to take chances.

Foxx's hand slid of the handle of his knife. It was now or never.

"HELP!"

The young couple looked up as a naked Jessie tore into the lobby behind them. She fumbled to the ground, scrambling to bring herself back up.

"THESE GUYS, THEY--"

Foxx was halfway down the steps by the time the man turned back around. Barry had grabbed a block of cement and hurled it. Startled, a shot erupted from the revolver as the man stumbled back. Foxx was on the floor now.

"TOMMY, LOOK OUT!" the woman shrieked. Foxx reared back his arm and hurled the knife into the man's chest. He howled out in pain and doubled over, the revolver clattering away. Jessie snatched it from the ground and pointed it at the woman. Her chest heaved, her naked frame covered in sweat.

"OH GOD!" the woman sobbed, falling next to Tommy. A pool of blood was seeping out below him. She unbuckled her backpack and ran her hands over him. "OH GOD!"

Barry gave Foxx a cynical look. He plucked another shard of cement from the ground, marched over to the woman, and promptly hit her across the back of the head. Foxx sighed as he ran a hand through his greasy hair. Totally not worth it, they didn't look like they were carrying any booze.

"See?" Barry grimaced, pulling the knife from Tommy's chest. "See what happens when all you think about is tits and legs?" he cast a wicked glance over to Jessie, who sneered at him.

"Fuck off," Foxx spat. "You were being sloppy. You're lucky I even decided to save your worthless ass."

Barry's face twisted in rage as he wiped the blood from the knife onto ratty jeans. He marched up to Foxx.

"You wanna keep talking?" he sneered. Foxx stood his ground, watching Barry carefully.

"It's because of 'tits and legs' over there that we've got more supplies."

"Yeah, and it's also because of tits and legs that we gotta move now. Place is gonna be swarming with Pokemon who heard that shot."

Foxx took his knife back from Barry and walked over to the corpses. The woman was wearing a hooded sweatshirt. He tossed it over to Jessie.

"Put some fuckin clothes on."

While Jessie dressed, Foxx and Barry stripped the deceased of their clothes and supplies. Foxx dug through their backpack and fell back onto his haunches, defeated. No alcohol. Meanwhile Barry spent his time inspecting the revolver.

"How's it look?" Foxx grunted, trying on new socks.

"Like I don't have time to piss around with it, but I'll get to it eventually." Barry said, tucking it into the back of his jeans. "Let's get out of here."

The three of them gathered their things and left out the back. Around the front of the hotel they could hear screeching. It drifted through the empty corridors and out the windows of shattered glass.

They walked all day, keeping to back roads and alleys. They avoided cutting through buildings as often as possible. By evening, when the sun was beginning to dip behind the mountains, they set up camp in an abandoned bookstore.

Barry took out the deceased couples' food supply and they ate canned fruit for supper. Jessie sat close to Foxx, as Barry did nothing but grunt when acknowledging her. Jessie mused that Barry was embarrassed she saved him. They doused their meager fire when the howls rang out in the street and footsteps echoed along the empty business district.

Barry took his supplies into the back room and slept, while Foxx and Jessie curled up behind the front counter. The blankets were thin and musty, rotting from years of moths and abuse. Jessie clung to him like a leaf, running her hands along his chest.

"You never talk about yourself." she said softly.

"What's there to tell?" He was really craving a drink.

"I don't know." Jessie admitted. "Entertain me. The howling always keeps me up when I'm this close to the street."

"Should we go further back?"

"Nah, they won't see us in here."

Foxx sighed and stroked her hair.

"I don't really remember much from before I lived with those refugees in the forest." He admitted. "It's all a big blur. I barely remember my parents, pretty much just my mom."

Christ he wanted a drink so badly, Jessie was the only one who seemed to douse his urges.

"What was she like?" Jessie cooed. Foxx grinned, pulling her in.

"Warm." he said. "My dad…I don't think he was ever around, really. Shit this was years ago..you really wanna hear this?"

Jessie nodded. Outside there was a horrible screech, followed by a collective of running footsteps. Foxx shuddered. He never got used to nighttime in the city. Normally he just drank until he didn't care anymore. There was a shortage of booze around here lately..

"Well…I met Barry with the refugees in the forest. We lived there for years..hunting, camping, just moving around a lot. The forest was pretty big…it was on the edge of the mountains, so there was nothing for miles. Everyone kind've took care of me collectively…I never really had a "parent". Barry was the closest thing I had to a family, even though he's like a dick of an older brother."

Jessie giggled quietly. Foxx smirked.

"One day we just decide to break out and do our own thing. This was…" Foxx bit his lower lip. He could barely remember. "Years ago, I don't really remember. We broke apart from the group, and start traveling. We've just been kind've on the road ever since."

"You've never thought of going back?"

"Of course. But that group moves around so much, it'd be impossible to find them again."

Jessie nodded. "Our family was on the run for so long…a lot of times we could've paired up with other refugees but my dad said it was always for the best that we keep to ourselves. It's hard to trust anyone, y'know?"

"You trust me."

"That's because you're harmless." Jessie whispered playfully. Foxx grinned.

"What're you talking about?"

"I saw you today." Jessie replied. "Most raiders don't hesitate for a second to smash somebody's head in. You let Barry do it."

"That's because I'm a lousy aim, and I was still kinda drunk."

"You were fine. And with a knife, sure, but a rock's a different story."

Foxx adjusted himself as he held Jessie close. "I'm no different than Barry. I've done things to survive.."

"We've all done things." Jessie pressed. She rested her head on his chest. "I'm just saying you're the safest bet I've made in a while."

Foxx sighed and listened to the echoing howls. Something about them was hypnotic. They lay in silence for several minutes, listening to the eerie midnight orchestra. At least he was getting tired. Then he wouldn't think about liquor so much.

"Jessie?"

"…yeah?"

"Whatever happened to your family?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Jessie yawned. "Goodnight sweetie."

Foxx grunted.

'sweetie'. He was tough. He was mean. She'll find out, he was sure of it.

Now he had to sleep on a bad mindset. As if a happy mindset would help.

Foxx hated sleep.

Though Jessie was curled up beside him, her head resting on his chest, he despised his restful state. When he closed is eyes, and began to drift off to slumber, shards of memories haunted him. In his sleep he was pursued by a dark, lumbering figure. As he ran there was no forward, and no backward. Foxx was running into a dark abyss that only opened its jaws for him. He was trapped in time and he couldn't leave. Around him was gunfire and shouting and screaming; a man with bleeding eyes was calling out to him. Another was gurgling blood as they reached for him, long gnarled hands clawing for him in the darkness.

"You know who you belong to."

Foxx awoke with a start.

"zzzz…what?" Jessie was stirring. Sunlight poured in through the dusty windows of the bookstore. Foxx's head fell back against his lump of clothes and he concentrated on his breathing.

"..what'd you say, babe?" Jessie murmured.

"I didn't say anything."

Barry lingered in the doorway.

"We have to go, there's somebody outside." he announced. Foxx and Jessie exchanged glances. Barry strode past them, picking his way over fallen books and debris. Foxx stood up, buckled his pants and approached the store window where Barry was looking out.

"Out in the street." He said softly, pointing. Foxx rubbed some of the dust off the window and looked down the street. Two men, dressed in rags were pushing a shopping cart down the street. It was overflowing, its only security being a blue tarp covering it.

"Looks like they got a lot of stuff." Barry murmured. Foxx hesitated. Then again they might have booze. Barry turned to him and sneered.

"The fuck's the matter with you?" he asked. "They got stuff. We need it. Get the fuck over it."

"Do we really need to do this?"

"Are you kidding me?" Barry asked. He shoved Foxx aside. "Are you fucking kidding--man, it's them or us. They have shit that WE need. What the hell is the matter with you?"

'You're a safe bet.' Jessie had told Foxx. 'You're harmless'

It rang back and forth in his head.

He weighed his options.

His stomach was in knots.

He could really use a drink right now.

Foxx bit his lower lip.

"So what's the plan?" he asked. Barry nodded.

"Glad you see my point." He replied sarcastically. "The plan is, I get the gun, hold them up. You're with tits and legs over there. You guys get around behind them and take them out."

"What's going on?" Jessie asked, standing up.

"We're gonna do a job." Barry grunted. "You up for it?"

"Whatever." Jessie sneered. Foxx rolled his eyes. Barry stuffed the revolver into the back of his jeans and strolled out the front door. Foxx and Jessie went out the back and ducked through the alley.

Out front Barry plucked the crude revolver from his jeans and coughed. The men stopped pushing the cart and turned around.

"Gents, I'm gonna have to ask you to hand over your shit."

He cocked back the revolver, aiming it at eye level.

Around the corner Foxx and Jessie were readying their knives. The men had all their attention turned to Barry, Foxx crept forward slowly.

"You don't want to do this, son," the man announced. Barry faltered, surprised.

"Don't talk down to me, old man," he shot back. "Give me your shit and you live."

The man on the right shuffled his feet. The left man held him back.

"Just go back where you came from."

Barry held his bluff, gripping the pistol with both hands now. His glance turned to Foxx and Jessie. They were only feet away from the cart.

Something moved.

"FUCK YOU!" Barry screeched. The men threw aside their rags to reveal .32 caliber hunting rifles.

"HOLY SHIT!" Jessie cried out. One of the men turned. Foxx was on him before he could pull the trigger. The other man fired at Barry, who toppled over. Foxx dug his knife deep into the man's lower intestine and pushed the man away, fumbling over to the last man whom fired a round that grazed his shoulder.

"FUCK!" Foxx grunted, slamming into the man. They fell to the ground. Jessie jumped in and rocked the man's head against the ground. Foxx fell to his back, grasping his shoulder.

"ARE YOU OKAY?!" Jessie yelled, running over to him.

"I'm fine," Foxx grunted, shoving her off. "Goddamnit."

Jessie gave him a hard look and stormed over to Barry.

"YOU SONOFABITCH!" she shrieked. "YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN US KILLED!"

"Welcome to fucking life," Barry gurgled. A round had entered his stomach. He held a trembling hand over the wound but blood was seeping through it. Blood seeped through his gritted teeth and as Foxx approached him, he managed a chuckle.

"So this is how it ends." Barry said ruefully. "Betrayed for a fucking girl. It should be YOU here, NOT ME, fuckwipe."

Foxx bit his lower lip. His arm hurt like a bitch, but he'd live. If only he had some vodka to soothe the pain..

"It wasn't my fault, man."

"Fuck off."

"You want us to just leave you here? You'll be food in five minutes."

"Fu…fu…ck…off.." Barry was sliding in and out of consciousness.

"I don't know anything about bullet wounds," Jessie mused. "We should just leave him."

Foxx stood over Barry for another minute until a howl ripped through the streets.

"Fuck." Foxx muttered. "Grab those guys' shit and let's get the hell out of here."

In a blur of motion Foxx and Jessie scrambled amongst the supplies, and grabbed what they could. There was a brief moment of hesitation, and Foxx scooped Barry up.

"What are you doing!" Jessie hissed. Foxx gave her a helpless look.

"Just push the cart!" he demanded. Barry, covered in blood, limped along as Foxx supported him. The howling grew closer until Foxx could almost feel the burn of their shadows on his feet.

They escaped into the darkness of a nearby building just as the footsteps came to a stop. Barry gurgled and Foxx covered his mouth, swallowing hard. Outside something snorted. Jessie, horrified, exchanged a glance with him. There was a trail of blood that Barry had dragged in, and the footsteps were beginning to echo closer.

Barry grasped at Foxx's jacket.

"Don't let them eat me." he whispered as he slid in and out of consciousness. Foxx held Barry's head in the crook of his arm. They were in what looked like a office store room. Around them were shelves of rotting paper and office supplies. At the far end of the room the door was open ajar, and it was this that frightened Foxx the most.

In their haste Jessie had propped the shopping cart against the door, but the trail of blood was anything but misleading. So Foxx climbed to his feet, gently letting Barry's head rest in Jessie's lap. On a shelf lay a box of tools, from which he plucked a wrench.

He aligned himself with the doorframe, pressing his body against the wall. It was only a matter of time before a pair of footsteps and a curious snort gave way to their position. Jessie was holding Barry's head tightly as the man mumbled incoherently. Blood was pooling beneath him and as Foxx lay in wait, he couldn't help but realize Barry would not live.

Another footstep.

Snort.

A shuffle of feet.

Fingers along the wall.

Foxx held his breath.

A man with rotting fingers pushed the door open, and peered into the room. The last thing he saw was a wrench. Foxx dragged the body into the room and brought the wrench down on its head. A second time. A third time.

The body twitched and moved no more.

There was another shuffle of steps outside, followed by a collective roar. Foxx glanced over at Jessie's face, which drained of color.

"RUN!" she shrieked. Foxx kicked the utility door open and fled with Jessie further into the building. A collective of shrieks followed them, bouncing off the walls of the structure. Behind them Barry drew his last breath. Jessie spared a glance back at the bouncing figures behind them but Foxx tugged her hand forward. They darted between a dark room full of pipes and canisters.

Glass shattered from the nearby windows as bird Pokemon crashed into the factory. Behind them something big roared as it batted humans out of its path.

Breathless, Foxx and Jessie skipped across debris of decaying machinery. Before them lay a maze of pipes, canisters and conveyor belts. Dusty, cracked windows provided an eerie illumination to the structure, bleeding paths of light displaying obstacles before them. Cold fingers brushed against Foxx's shoulder. Foxx spun, a blur of figures dashing behind him. Jessie shrieked; fixed in her place, tugging him along. A man with bleeding eyes was howling at him. His skin was red and peeling; clothes caked in dried blood lashed out as he swung at Foxx.

"FOXX!" Jessie cried out. Foxx swung his wrench and knocked the man aside. He teetered slightly off balance until Jessie pulled him back. People crowded behind Foxx's victim, grabbing and clawing at them. Others scrambled over the pipes and debris and grabbed at Jessie. Foxx fell back into her, and knocked away clawing hands. They scrambled to their feet, Foxx swinging the wrench wildly. Jessie pulled Foxx up a set of rusty stairs as the people flooded the base of the steps.

Bird Pokemon swooped and dived, knocking over pipes and debris in their wake. The hulking figure made its way to the front of the crowd and swung its massive fist behind Foxx's feet. Ahead of them the steps wound around a single support beam, leading to a dark office above. Foxx pushed Jessie forward and spared a glance down at a Rhydon, its eyes a milky white, roaring in dismay as it vied for them. Foxx turned his attention back to the office and slipped as he missed a step. Jessie was halfway in the door when she spun to help him. A fireball ripped through the air and grazed her arm.

"FUCK!" she cried out. A Charmeleon at the base of the steps roared as it tried to claw its way up the steps. Below the Rhydon swung its massive claws as it tried to climb, resulting in knocking a section of the steps out. Bird Pokemon circled the office, unable to break in. Jessie sobbed as she held her arm, trying to pull Foxx forward.

"C'MON FOXX!" she screeched. Foxx had rocked his chin on the step and his vision was hazy. Another fireball ripped across his chest and he cried out. In a scramble the two of them fell into the office and slammed the door shut behind themselves. Outside the howling continued. Foxx fell with his back against the door, his chest heaving. Outside the Charmeleon erupted in boiling rage; flames ignited the dark factory in a dazzling display of orange and red light.

There was a rumbling. Jessie fell back. Foxx sprang forward and covered her. An explosion of blue flames engulfed the outside of the office and everything fell silent. Both Foxx and Jessie fell unconscious.

In his dreams Foxx saw tall, lumbering men with red eyes walking through the mist. Their bodies were cloaked in darkness and long trunks extended from their heads. Like serpents they slipped into the factory and slithered over the ruins and corpses of Pokemon, through the smoke they picked their way around the office. Foxx and Jessie may be safe, the men with red eyes didn't see them, but they knew Foxx was close. They wanted him.

"Come, Foxx. You know who you belong to."

And then Foxx realized he wasn't dreaming. He awoke in Jessie's lap and the first thing he saw was her face staring down at him. She put a finger to her lips. Foxx gave her a puzzled look, but the exhaustion illustrating her face told him something was wrong. Slowly he sat up and crawled to the window. Outside several beams of light illuminated the factory floor. Tall, dark men were scouring over the remains of Pokemon and inspecting the ruins from earlier.

"Who are they?" Jessie whispered. Foxx studied them as they picked their way over the debris.

"I don't know." he admitted. "They don't look like raiders."

He couldn't make out much in the darkness. They ducked when a flash of light washed over the office window. They sat with their backs against the wall. Jessie hugged him tightly.

"Just make them go away." she whispered. Foxx wrapped his arms around her and felt the open wound on her arm, from where the Charmeleon had hit her. He sighed. His chest ached. His shoulder wasn't feeling too great, either. Tomorrow they would have to get out of here. Tomorrow things would be better.

Tomorrow he would find a motherfucking drink…

* * * * *

When the sun rose and the Foxx awoke once more, he slowly climbed to his feet and looked outside the window. The men with burning eyes were gone. In fact, there was no evidence they had been there at all. Jessie was stirring and he touched his hand lightly to her shoulder.

"hmm…wha…?" she murmured.

"We gotta go." Foxx said softly. He wiped his lips with his arm. There was a hole in the side of the factory, they would exit that way. Outside sunlight was spilling in, bringing life to the empty building. Foxx helped Jessie up and they left the office, carefully picking their way down the decimated steps.

When they reached the bottom, they stood among the audience of corpses. Several were human, others were poke'mon. Several yards away was a large canister that had erupted. Foxx wondered exactly what was inside it to create such a controlled explosion.

"Where's our shopping cart?" he asked. Jessie beckoned toward the store room, where they had left Barry. Foxx hesitated.

"Let's not go." Jessie pleaded. "I don't want to go back that way."

"We have to." Foxx insisted. "That's all our supplies."

Back through the store room Foxx ignored the sight of Barry's corpse. It was half eaten with entrails pouring out into the hallway. The smell was enough to make Jessie vomit, and her sickness filled the doorway near the body. Foxx helped her out of the room and to back exit, where their shopping cart was tipped over, and looted. At the foot of it Jessie sobbed and Foxx held her, looking at the empty cart.

Even that of which they didn't steal was in that cart, now they had nothing.

"There's always something." Foxx replied, holding Jessie. "We just have to keep looking."

"We're going to die." Jessie choked.

"No we're not." Foxx said firmly. "Jess, you need to--"

"The boy's right, you know."

Foxx and Jessie looked up in time to see several men rise from beyond the debris. They were coated in camouflage and their faces were painted with charcoal. Foxx also noticed each one of them were carrying rifles. Each barrel was pointed at his heart.

A large man, obviously the leader, stepped forward.

"You mind telling me why The Union is after you, son?"


	2. The Rangers

I apologize for the wait; my life outside the keyboard is pretty hectic. Just know that I have no plans on giving up on this story. Enjoy!

D E V A S T A T I O N

Chapter 2

15 years ago Howard "Boomer" Sanders awoke to the steady ticking of his alarm clock. His hand snaked out from beneath the sheets and tapped the top snooze button. As he did his wife's arm pulled him back under.

"I have to." he murmured.

"gimme a couple more minutes," she mumbled. Howard pulled away and rolled over. His legs were clumsy and offset in the morning, so he spent a moment sitting on the edge of the mattress before standing up. He rubbed his eyes and thought about the day ahead. Today things were going to change. Today would be the best day of his life.

Had he remembered to pull the curtains aside, he would have realized the contrary.

"Honey?"

he turned. "Hmm?"

Janelle peered out from under the blankets.

"I forgot to tell you, I'm not on call until 9."

"So what're we doing up this early?"

She blushed. "I'm not sure. Come back to bed, sweetie."

He smiled and stepped back, caressing her face.

"I still have to drop Katie off at school."

Janelle pouted, and fell back into the sheets. "It's been forever since I wasn't on call this early."

"What were you thinking?" he asked. She grinned devilishly.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"I can drop her off in fifteen minutes." he said hurriedly, tugging on a pair of pants.

Down the hallway Katie was rubbing her eyes as she stepped out from her room.

"You all ready?" he asked. Katie nodded.

"I just need to brush my teeth."

"Alright. Hurry up, honey." Howard passed her and walked downstairs to the living room. Sunlight was pouring in through the window and he stood there for a moment, taking it all in. It wasn't often he had mornings like this; he lived a happy marriage but Janelle was always busy with work. After his morning delight, he would have to go to work and sell some TVs. But today would be different. He'd be in an exceptionally good mood and that floor manager would finally give him a fucking raise..

"Alright dad, I'm ready." Katie jumped down from the last step. She scooped her backpack from the floor and slung it across her shoulders. "You're in a hurry." she remarked. Howard grinned, embarrassed.

"Nah," he lied. "C'mon kiddo, let's get you to school."

The two of them stepped outside to a cloudy morning. In the distance sirens were wailing. Two doors down his neighbors were scrambling as they pushed luggage into a car. Howard paid almost no attention, they were college kids and always up to something.

"It's gonna be gross today." Katie pointed out. Howard nodded.

"I think so, baby girl." he replied. They stepped into Howard's SUV and he adjusted himself in the driving seat. Janelle drove yesterday, and good lord did he hate it when she adjusted the seat…

Katie was already bumbling in the passenger seat and he gave her a hard look.

"Katie, we talked about this.."

"Aw, c'mon dad!" she pouted. Howard paused, trying not to think about how he was making Janelle wait.

"You know the rules. I couldn't--"

"..forgive yourself if anything happened to me. Yeah, I know." she grumbled and helped herself to the backseat. Howard grinned and adjusted is rearview mirror. He started the engine and buckled his seat belt.

"…exit 35, is blocked. It has yet to be confirmed in the course of military action.."

"Dad, can you change it? I hate the news channel."

"Sure thing." Howard turned the dial and classic rock filled the air. As he backed out there was a squeal of tires and a car careened through the garbage cans lining his neighbor's driveway.

"SHIT!" Howard cried. He unbuckled his seatbelt and scrambled out of the SUV. The car was driving wildly down the road, the passenger side door was open. Something was flailing its arms out the side door, trying to get out. It drove through two more garbage cans before turning the corner into traffic.

"What was that?" Katie asked. Howard stood there for a moment, hands on his hips. He looked up and down the street. The college kids were still packing their car. In the distance there was a gunshot, and a few blocks down someone screamed. Overheard a flock of bird pokemon cawed as it made its way downtown. He didn't know why, but Howard felt a hard chill run down his spine.

No.

They were drunk. Those people in that car were drunks. The college kids were up to no good and there was just another dispute between Ramus and Cheryl down the street. He probably threw something and she screamed. Today was going to be a great day, and nothing was going to change that.

"Is it migrating season?" Katie asked. "We learned the other day that bird pokemon don't migrate until fall--well, at least not right now anyway."

"I don't know…" he muttered. He took one last look in the direction of the crazy car. Fucking drunks.

Driving downtown was a disaster. Every exit was clogged and even the side streets were busy with activity. Police cars buzzed along while people began abandoning their vehicles amongst the traffic. Howard rolled down his window and peered over a crowd of fleeing heads. To the right there was a Machoke, surrounded by police and onlookers, swinging his fists madly.

"What's he doing, dad?" Katie asked. Howard glanced at her, then back at the Machoke. The police were dressed in riot gear. They descended on the poke'mon, swinging their nightsticks wildly. Howard wished that he could drive faster than a snail's pace so Katie wouldn't have to see this.

"I dunno sweetie," he replied. "But it's part of why we don't own poke'mon."

"A boy in my class said his poke'mon went crazy." Katie said. "like, bad crazy."

"Bad crazy?" Howard chuckled. "How's bad crazy?"

"I dunno." Katie shrugged. "But he said when his dad called the police, they sent the army over."

"Sounds like your buddy's pulling your leg." Howard grinned. "It's just--"

The opposing car lane opened to their left as a large military transport moved through. Armed soldiers were in the back of it. Some of them glared down at Howard's SUV as it cruised by. Howard looked back at the crowd, then in his rearview mirror. He realized that he was the only one driving in this direction.

Today was going to be a good day.

Today was GOING TO BE a good day.

"Dad..?"

"Yes, honey?"

"What's that?"

Howard looked where Katie was pointing. Several blocks ahead the asphalt was beginning to split. It was peeling away toward the SUV.

"Um--" The hairs on Howard's neck stood on end. He looked out the back window and threw his vehicle into reverse. There was a line of abandoned cars blocking his way. People beyond that were honking their horns. An otherwise quiet backstreet was turned into the rush hour zone.

"Dad--!"

Howard glanced back to the cracking asphalt. A group of Dugtrio emerged from the asphalt and dove under again, pummeling through a yard. Behind them a herd of Ivysaurs were stampeding through a crowd of cars.

"Honey, we gotta go." Howard said hurriedly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"But what about school?" Katie protested.

"Not now, honey."

Howard ran around the side of the car and pulled Katie out. She went for her backpack but he stopped her. Around them people began to scream. A woman tried to flee from her car but was caught in a vine whip. The vines snapped against her back and she fell forward, shrieking. To the side The Police were trying to apprehend the Machoke but their attention was diverted to the Ivysaur herd. Several blocks away the military convoy had stopped.

"C'mon, baby girl!" Howard demanded, tugging Katie along. Together they pushed through the maze of cars amongst the herd of fleeing civilians. Ahead soldiers were pouring out of the convoy, but were already caught up in the fleeing crowd. Vines snapped and shattered car windows. People trampled over each other as the pokemon moved forward. Officers began to line up behind the people with their riot shields at the ready. Behind the herd of Ivysaur a large Venusaur emerged. It roared in dismay as it saw the chaos.

"Dad--!" Katie lost her grip on Howard's hand and fell. Howard stumbled forward and was thrown into the side of a truck by a fleeing man.

"DADDDY!" Katie shrieked as a Ivysaur descended on her. Howard yelped as he was thrown back by a snapping vine. For a moment he didn't feel the pain. For a moment he was caught up in the chaos; adrenaline pumping through his veins. Another crack of the vine and Howard was on his knees. The Ivysaur opened its jaws and began to pull Katie away.

"DADDDDDDYYY!!" Katie was yelping. Howard couldn't feel his face, or his chest. There was an intense, cold numbness where they should be. Blood was running down his face as he tried to push past the corpse of a woman for his daughter. A police officer fired a round into the Ivysaur, then was trampled by the Venusaur. Katie was screaming. Howard could see nothing but blood. Horrible, dripping red blood.

Today was supposed to be a good day.

15 years later Howard "Boomer" Sanders was picking his teeth with a combat knife. What used to be considered hygiene was now a huge pain in the ass. Not that it mattered anyway, regardless of how clean he thought his teeth may be, they all smelled like campfire smoke and ass. The fire they had gathered around was pitiful at best, but it was adequate enough to cook a meal. Besides, any more smoke coming off these flames was sure to attract some unwanted attention.

"HELLO?!" another screech.

"Boomer," Boss was watching him from behind the flames. "I'm gonna need you to--"

"Of course," Boomer replied. "Just doing a little flossing."

He stood up, sheathed his knife and glanced back at boss. Everyone else watched the flames dully.

"Everything?"

"Everything." Boss confirmed. Boomer took one last glance at his team gathered around the fire and began his trek down the dark utility steps. He hated the dark. Although his body and mind were honed after years of training, there was still an element of mystery to the darkness.

Although he was trained to become a part of the darkness himself, it didn't mean there weren't others trained the same way. But this was a safe place. The utility basement of a parking structure, nestled on the outskirts of Cerulean. No Poke'mon ever had the idea that this place was inhabited, let alone the basement. Boomer sighed as he took the final steps to the door where the horrible screaming was coming from. He unsheathed his knife and he knew what he had to do, even though it disgusted him. Even from the beginning, he followed orders.

Following orders was the only way out of the chaos.

And chaos was something he knew well.

On the other side of the room Foxx's mind was filled with the red eyed men, echoing in the darkness as they called out to him.

"You know who you belong to."

Glowing red eyes with thick trunks protruding from their jaws; shadow men wrapped in cloaks. Their boot heels crunched over broken glass as they picked through the debris, ever vigilant in their search...

When Foxx came to, he was beneath a pool of light. The room was otherwise shrouded in darkness and had he been able to feel his feet, he would have fled into the depths of the abyss. But there was no movement, no sound, no voices. Only his haggard breathing as he struggled against the thick ropes restraining him. The chair he was tied to appeared to be bolted down. He couldn't move it even if he weren't tied up.

"Hello?" he croaked.

His throat hurt, he had been out for hours. His throbbing headache told him he wasn't just bound to the drink, but something else knocked him out.

"HELLO?!" he screeched.

As if on cue, Boomer manifested from the bleeding shadows.

Foxx watched Boomer carefully. The man had a look in his eyes that was remnant of a man lost at sea; his features were chiseled and old, a man that had seen many things. He was no stranger of death. Scars were visible on his shoulders, dried blood caked his finger tips, but no feature was as prominent as the slashing scar that ran down his face, from the tip of his forehead to past his neck.

He knelt to Foxx's eye level and a crooked grin split his dry lips.

"Who…?" Foxx croaked. The man looked Foxx up and down and drew a long combat knife from a holster. He examined it closely, picking his dirty fingers along its rusted edge.

"Here's the deal, son." he said firmly, his eyes never raising from the blade. "You're going to tell me everything you know, or else I'm gonna make you look like me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Foxx spat. "Where's Jessie?"

The man sighed and pressed the knife to Foxx's left arm. In a quick motion he made a deep cut and Foxx howled in pain.

"Ringin any bells?" the man asked. "It's not often I get to play with knives."

"Please!" Foxx begged. "I'll tell you whatever you want! what is this?!"

"You don't think we know what you've got going on?" the man asked. He squatted down to face Foxx at eye level. His features bled into the shadows, his eyes dark and cold. "You set off that beacon and The Union comes runnin. Clever idea for an explosion. Not necessarily subtle, but it got their attention."

"Where's Jessie?!" Foxx roared. He struggled against the chair. The man cut him again.

"I'm making the initial cuts." he said flatly. "It's only going to get worse."

"I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE UNION!" Foxx screamed. He cried out again and struggled against the ropes. Blood was leaking out of the cuts, thick and oozing. If he wasn't going to be skinned alive, he'd surely bleed to death. "Me and Jessie were just running--these things attacked us and a pokemon set off the explosion. I don't--!"

Another quick slash and blood was running down Foxx's forehead. It was getting in his eyes. The man grinned, he was enjoying himself.

"You're a fucking rapist and a goddamn thief. You steal from those who are just trying to get along." the man said accusingly. "I know your fucking type. Now you're working for The Union and all you want is a hot meal, no matter how many people you kill."

Foxx began to sob. The man pressed the knife to the tip of Foxx's forehead and dragged it slowly down along his face. Foxx yelped in pain, tears and blood running down his cheeks. The cuts were as excruciating as they were deep. He rattled in his chair. Blood, sweat and dirt and grime were Foxx's world. The agonizing pain relished in his misery.

He knew nothing.

Who was The Union?

Who was this man?

Where was Jessie?

"Boomer, when I said get down to business, I didn't think you'd make it so quick. Jesus, did you give him a fucking minute to explain anything?"

Boomer looked up at Boss as he entered the room. Foxx was whimpering quietly in the chair and as Boomer sheathed his knife, he marched up to Boss.

"If he knew something, he would've talked as soon as he saw my fucking face." Boomer replied quietly. "I think he's just some asshole raider."

Boss nodded. "I'll talk to him for a minute and we'll decide what to do."

Boomer stepped aside as Boss approached Foxx. He crouched down to eye level and licked his lips. Foxx's eyes were staring at the stumps of the chair. His face leaked blood steadily.

"Son," Boss said firmly. "If you know anything, you need to tell us right now…otherwise we're gonna kill you."

"I don't know anything," Foxx choked. "I was with Jessie and we were running from the infected…that's IT."

Boss paused, drinking in Foxx's words. He sat there for a moment, choosing carefully what to say next.

"What's your name, son?"

"What?"

"You can't die without a name."

Foxx choked again. Boss slapped him across the face.

"You can die without a name, but for chrissakes, keep your dignity you fucking pussy." he spat. Foxx tried to repress another sob and took a deep breath. He could barely feel his face.

"Foxx." he said finally. "Foxx is my name."

The man was silent.

"Boss…?" Boomer asked.

"Shut up." Boss replied. He pushed Foxx's forehead up and brushed away his greasy hair, studying his face. "Holy shit…you look just like him."

Boomer stepped forward. "What?"

"Boomer, untie him and patch him up." Boss announced. "We're not gonna kill him, but he sure has some goddamn explaining to do."

The relief was so thick that Foxx choked on it. The last thing he remembered is falling forward as Boomer loosened the ropes.

"They're going to kill us, aren't they?"

When Foxx awoke Jessie was clinging to him, shaking like a leaf.

"Hmm?"

"They're going to kill us." Jessie repeated. "They're going to kill you…then rape me…and they're going to kill me."

Her words were frantic and quivering. She clung to him tightly. Foxx couldn't remember where they were, or why his head hurt so bad. He couldn't see out of his left eye, something was covering it. The last thing he remembered was being in the utility room of the facto--

The explosion.

The men with red eyes.

The man called "Boomer" and the big knife.

The chair and the questions.

The blood.

It all came rushing back to him and suddenly Foxx was shaking just like Jessie. Normally he prided himself in being strong and brave, but he was in over his head. Barry was dead. Jessie and Foxx were alone in a dark room, lying on some moldy mattress. His head was covered in bandages, and there was a thumping headache rocking his brain. He needed more sleep, and he needed a drink more than anything. His stomach was in knots. Jessie was breathing on his neck and aside from being scared shitless, the fact that he didn't have any booze in him was really starting to piss him off.

"Where are we?" he asked finally. "How'd we get here?"

"They locked me up in here hours ago, then they threw you in." Jessie pulled him in close. "You were unconscious." She added. Her fingers ran over the thick bandages on his face. They were wet. "What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Do you remember anything?"

"I said," Foxx growled. "I don't want to talk about it."

Jessie pouted and looked away from him. If it weren't so dark Foxx would see tears brimming on her eyes. She was frightened. The last thing she needed was him to be cross with her. Now Foxx felt remorse, and rolled over to face her.

"I'm sorry." he whispered.

"Oh god, Foxx…your face.."

"I'm fine." he said softly. "It's okay…we're going to be okay."

A door opened and the man named Boomer stepped through.

"The boss wants to see you." He said gruffly. Foxx could feel the cold stare of Boomer's eyes washing over him.

"It's best not to keep him waiting." he added. Jessie squeezed Foxx's hand.

"It's okay." He whispered. He stood up, took one last look at Jessie, and followed Boomer out the door. Outside was what looked to be an underground parking complex. Several men sat on their haunches around a fire, talking quietly. When Foxx stepped into the light their chatter become a low murmur and Foxx never felt more alone. Boomer tugged his arm and Foxx followed him across the dimly lit room. In the far corner, nearly in the shadows, "the boss" sat, watching a small fire.

"You can leave us, Boomer." the man said quietly, absently stabbing at the fire with a stick. Boomer grumbled and left. Foxx reluctantly helped himself to a seat and watched the man poke at the fire. He was a large man. Old, but well-aged. Though his figure was pudgy, it was evident that there was solid muscle underneath layers of fat.

"What do you remember about your childhood, Foxx?" the man asked. Foxx watched him carefully. The man was looking at the fire but it was as if he had a third eye that was studying him through the flames.

"Not much." Foxx admitted. "I remember a bit about my mother…nothing of my dad. I remember being somewhere up high, and then coming down into the ground fast. There were a lot of trees. I was young…very young. I remember looking up into the trees and there were people screaming and yelling. All I can remember is the canopy of leaves and then I'm scooped up. There was some fire…" Foxx's head still hurt. He wasn't in the mood to answer these questions.

"How is it that you've become a raider?" the man asked. "Rape and murder isn't necessarily your M.O. ..you're better than that."

"What're you talking about?"

"I'm saying you don't look the part." The man pointed out. "You sure as hell don't act the part, either."

Foxx grimaced. Anyone would cry their eyes out if they were strapped to a chair being tortured.

"I do what I can to get by."

Foxx's tongue was dry. He wanted so badly to ask this man for a drink, but was frightened at the thought of it.

"You don't have to just 'get by'." The man pressed.

"Look," Foxx replied. "I don't know where you're getting at…if you're going to kill me, kill me…but," his voice was quivering. "leave Jessie alone. She's not a part of any of this."

The man behind the fire smiled. Something about it was warm; respectful. He had said the right thing.

"See? I knew you were better than that." he said smugly. "Foxx, I'm not sure how to say this, so I'll just lay it out. My name is Ian Surge, and I knew your father."

"…what?"

"I knew your father." the man repeated. "very well, in fact. 15 years ago I was head of The Poke'mon Island National Security. I was in command of over 4,000 troops and special units. Your father, included."

"Bullshit." Foxx seethed. "What do you want from me?"

Ian smirked and leaned his elbows onto his knees.

"You don't have to believe me, I suppose," he said. "The point of the story is, your father was a great man, and respected by many people. He would've wanted a better life for you."

"You don't know shit about me." Foxx said angrily. "What the fuck IS this? Torture me, scar my face and bleed me out, only to give me a lecture on how to fucking live my life?" his fingers ran over the thick bandages covering his face. "YOU did this to me. I'm just trying to live!"

"You can do more than just get by." Ian repeated firmly. "And if you want to go, then we'll give you safe passage out of here." He sat back slightly. The fire was beginning to die down. "But," he added. "How long do you think you'll last?"

"I'm done here." Foxx said gruffly as he stood up.

"The Union is looking for something, kiddo." Ian called. "How long do you think you'll last with them on your ass?"

"Alright," Foxx spun on his heel. "Who the FUCK is The Union? If you're gonna ruin my goddamn face, YOU have to tell me something about these guys."

"Sit down." Ian said gruffly, offering a seat. Foxx bit his lower lip. He looked back in the direction of Jessie. On the opposite end of the room, the men were staring at him. Reluctantly he sat down.

"The Union is a collective group of…who knows?..based out of the Presidential Bunker in the mountains. It's the former government of Poke'mon Island," Ian explained. "We believe it's still headed by the Oak family…The First Family back before all this happened." Ian paused to look around the room.

Foxx watched him carefully. Something told him Ian wasn't lying.

"Professor Oak believed that there was something deeper going on..something higher up that controlled the way the Poke'mon acted…something that MADE them go 'crazy'. They've been broadcasting over an open frequency for the past few years," Ian continued. "They're convinced now that what happened here, all of this…" he beckoned around himself. "They're convinced that this was a Holy Event..that God himself sent the Poke'mon to destroy us, as punishment for our sins."

"They really believe that?"

"Yes." Ian replied. "And now we're beginning to see them take action. It used to be disembodied voices over the radio. They look exactly like the kind of lunatics that would be broadcasting that shit, too."

"They look like what?"

Ian's hands went up to his face.

"They wear gas masks and long trench coats. Their bodies are almost completely covered up…it's like they're afraid of becoming infected, or something..though the infected is only transferred through bites, scratches…or of course, an Alakazam…but even then, a cloak and a gas mask won't help you. Who knows why they do that…they're more of a cult than a religion."

Foxx was silent. The Union.

The men with the red eyes, the long trunks. The dark cloaks and steel-tipped boots. It was The Union that was scouring the area the night before. It was them calling out to him. The Union.

"You know who you belong to, Foxx. Come to us."

He shuddered and Ian paused.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I just need a drink." Foxx replied. Ian handed him a dirty bottle of water. Foxx looked at it, disappointed, but drank anyway.

"And now they're looking for something." Ian added. "We don't know what…and frankly I don't wanna know. But there has to be a reason that they're scouring the area and leaving all kinds of shit behind. They're not trying to clean up or rebuild..they're after something."

"You don't have any idea?"

"No," Ian admitted. "But when you ignited that explosion, they came a'runnin. It looks as if they were WAITING for some kind of signal…and you're telling me you don't know anything about that?"

Foxx shook his head.

"Well," Ian finished. "You and Jessie are okay to leave. You sure you don't want to stay?"

"Why would I?"

"Because you have potential." Ian said flatly. "I knew your father, and I respected him. In fact, I owe him. He's done a lot for this Island and I'd be damned if I couldn't pay him back somehow."

"But how?" Foxx pressed.

"Become one of us." Ian replied. "Each one of us has a story, and that's why we're here today. We live for something greater than ourselves..we're here to help others. Those who know us call us 'The Rangers'. And the way it's looking, we're the only thing standing between you and The Union."

Foxx drank in Ian's words, but his expression remained cold.

"Sorry," he said finally. "But I don't have a story."

He turned to leave.

"You don't have anything worth fighting for?" Ian mused. "What about that girl you seem to care so much about?"

"If anyone touches her, I'll kill them." Foxx answered back.

Ian leaned back against the wall and watched him leave.

"Well then, Godspeed, kid." he murmured.

Boomer emerged from the shadows.

"That went well," he said sarcastically.

"Can it," Ian shot back. "I need you to follow them."

"Why? they're not our problem."

Ian looked hard at Boomer.

"The Union is after them. I don't know why, but they are. I can FEEL it." he watched Foxx help Jessie out of the room. "They're not going to get far, and they'll be back. I need you to make sure that they make it back alive."

Boomer looked like he wanted to protest, but instead fell back into the shadows, becoming invisible amongst the rotted surroundings.

Foxx spared one last glance in Ian's direction.

Finally some new material! Sorry for the wait.

Loved it, hated it, lemme know!


	3. The Union

Wow. It's been over a month. Once again I apologize for the wait, but that's exactly how long it takes me to polish and fine-tune these chapters. I want to deliver to you all the best experience possible, so don't lose faith in the story if it takes longer than expected to produce.

Once again, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the next installment!

DEVASTATION

Chapter 3

Foxx shouldered his backpack and was pleasantly surprised at the weight it held. Fitting, he figured, for what they had done to his face. Later Jessie and himself would go over the contents of the pack but right now all he was intent on doing was getting as far away from the parking structure as possible. With a sigh of relief, he took Jessie's hand and stepped out into the sunlight.

"Where are we..." Jessie murmured.

"I don't know," Foxx admitted. "I don't care."

Today was going to be hot. Boiling, in fact. He worried about the bandages around his eye, and realized that they would have be redressed again…and soon. He didn't like it when Jessie fussed over him, seldom that she did, and now more than ever he just wanted to get away. Once again…something ELSE they had to put on their agenda. Hand in hand, the two of them picked their way down a rotting street, filled with abandoned vehicles and military posts. Jessie remained uncharacteristically silent as they trekked on throughout the day, only pausing momentarily for water or to rest. As the afternoon sun rose high into the sky, the two sought shelter under the shade of a bus stop, conveniently growing ripe with moss and decay.

It was about this time that Jessie dug into Foxx's pack and pulled out a can of fruit. She opened it with her knife and picked out a slice of orange, and handed it to Foxx. Together they enjoyed the tangy refreshment in the shade. Foxx leaned back and examined the area around them. What was formerly a shopping district had now become a haven for moss and rubble, with both abandoned vehicles and military outposts adding to the rust and decay. There was also evidence of scavengers having picked through just about every store and shop within reach. Though he had never seen the district as it was originally intended to be, he felt an eerie sensation of displacement; something was wrong. For a moment he contemplated standing up and surveying the area…but around them was a wide open plaza. If they were being followed, it would be more than obvious…wouldn't it?

It wasn't just the mild headache he had from not drinking.

So why did he feel so on edge?

"How's your eye?" Jessie asked absently, sucking the juices out of the last slice of orange.

"It's fine." Foxx muttered.

"I've been thinking," Jessie replied. She swallowed the last chunk of fruit and set the can on the ground. "About you and me…and about what happened earlier."

Foxx remained silent.

"I don't think it's a good idea for the two of us to travel together any more."

"What?"

"You haven't said a word about what those men wanted," Jessie accused. "I was thrown into a room for hours and I didn't know why. They let us go after you have a little talk with their boss, and now we've been walking all day, and you haven't said shit."

"Can this wait?" Foxx pleaded.

"Fuck you." Jessie stood up. She shouldered Foxx's backpack and gave him a hard look. "We'll walk together for the rest of the day, and the better part of tomorrow-however long it'll take us to get as far away from those lunatics," she beckoned in the direction of the parking structure. "As possible. Then, after that….you're on your own."

"Jessie..."

"Let's go."

She began walking and Foxx obediently stood up to follow. As much as he wanted to protest, he couldn't blame her. He felt an aching in the back of his throat that would tighten and twist and pull at his heart, but the time for that was not now. Jessie was right; he had pulled her into the middle of something that she had no business being a part of, and it was not her fault that any of this had happened. He was the one to blame. Besides…when they began traveling together, they knew this would be temporary.

He just didn't think it would end so sourly.

They walked up onto the expressway where the military had set up roadblocks. Rusted shells still littered the ground from anti-aircraft guns. Abandoned military convoys and other vehicles of war had been left unattended, to bake under the hot sun. They had equally grown ripe with decay. They spent the majority of their time walking along the highway and picking through the remains of the military vehicles, coming across no weapons or ammunition.

In all their graciousness, The Rangers had left Foxx and Jessie with their combat knives, but had stripped them of everything else including their dignity. Foxx already felt that in shreds, as he had sobbed like a child when they cut him. Who wouldn't? He grimaced as he ran fingers over his bandaged eye. He stopped at the hood of a Hummer as Jessie dug through the backseat. To his surprise she plucked out a shotgun.

"Does it..?"

Jessie examined it closely, turned it over in her hands, and checked the barrel. She discarded it with a disgusted look on her face.

"It's rusted out, the parts are shit." she sneered. Foxx frowned. He was in no mood to argue. Jessie was not herself…or maybe, she was being "herself" before she met Foxx.

The sun began to dip behind the devastated skyline as they exited off the highway. They found refuge in a boutique off the corner of a forgotten strip mall and made sure the entrance and the exits were secure before hunkering down for the night. Outside the wind began to howl, only to be matched by that of the infected as they scuffled about outside. Foxx rubbed the bridge of his nose and squirmed uncomfortably. He would never in his life get used to the sounds of the night….especially in the city. Part of him waited for Jesse to join him under the blankets but he realized she was across the room, already wrapping herself up in sheets. He gave her a helpless look, but she didn't return the favor.

Foxx couldn't have felt more alone in the world. He sighed as he rolled over, welcoming himself to his usual world of nightmares.

The next morning he awoke to the sound of Jessie packing up.

"Why didn't you wake me?" He murmured. Jessie didn't hear him or didn't care, as she searched the shelves of the room for anything useful.

"Nothing." She spat, kicking an empty can aside. She pivoted on her heel and turned to face him. "We need to get going. We're going to have to find food."

"But the Rangers-"

"only gave us enough until today," Jessie finished. "After that we're on our own."

Foxx sighed and pulled on his pants. Watching Jessie act differently around him only soured his attitude more. She had a right to be angry, then again, it wasn't his fault they were being pursued…if they were at all. Foxx couldn't help but shake the feeling that he was being watched at all times. It set him on edge more so than usual.

But he WASN'T being followed…was he?

FUCK! why was he always second-guessing himself?

He needed a drink badly.

After packing up, Jessie and himself walked further through the city, picking their way over scattered remains of debris and abandoned posts. In the afternoon, when the sun was highest in the sky, the two scavenged a grocery store.

The store smelled of rot and decay, among other things. The shelves that were once packed with goods were now tipped over and empty. Those that still stood only payed an homage to what they once were; shadows of their former selves. Jessie turned on her flashlight and shined it over a barrage of posters promoting sales. Over top of those were Quarantine signs.

"They quarantined people in a grocery store?" she asked.

"What's that mean?" Foxx asked.

"What, Quarantine?" Jessie replied. "It means they put sick people in here."

"Must've been a scramble, probably just trying to secure whatever place they could," Foxx reasoned. "I wonder what it was like…when everything was going to shit."

"I don't." Jessie said sourly. "I was a little girl then…but I still remember all the screaming…" She paused a moment, running the light idlely over the shelves. "The city was burning for days, and my…" she stopped herself. Foxx looked at her but said nothing. He decided to leave her alone with her thoughts for the time being and explore the rest of the building.

Foxx walked along the posters and kicked aside empty cans. There was nothing here. He looked over and Jessie had disappeared behind a stack of shelves, so he walked further along the wall until he came to a utility door. On it there was a sign, with that word again.

"Quarantine." Foxx said to himself as he idly pushed open the door. The bolt lock on it had rusted off years ago.

Inside what used to be a docking bay was now several beds with large plastic sheets hanging over them. The room was only illuminated by the dust from windows near the ceiling so Foxx turned on his flashlight and shined it over the beds. Most of them were covered in moss, others were torn and stained with blood. Quietly Foxx walked further into the room, pushing aside an empty cart. He reached the far end of the room and shifted his weight. Nothing here, either.

"Hey, Jessie-!"

Something tore through the plastic sheets behind him. Foxx sprung forward as it latched onto his back, snarling and screeching. Foxx fell onto his stomach, throwing his back from side to side and the creature fell off, scampering into the darkness on the other side of the room.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Foxx cried out, pulling himself by his palms against the opposite wall. He stood up and snatched his flashlight from the ground. Whatever it was, it had ripped off his bandages. Consciously Foxx gingerly touched his wounds. They were still tender, and needed be redressed…quickly. Jessie came running in as Foxx shined the light across the room.

"What happened?" she asked shrilly, noticing first his face. There was a growl and a Primeape appeared from the shadows. His body had long since withered away, presenting him as somewhat a pokemon skeleton. A large chunk of his lower jaw was missing. His eyes were red and his furry cheeks were stained, as if he cried blood at one time. He snarled at them and scampered on all fours at Jessie, who cried out as he leaped.

"JESSIE!" Foxx yelled, running over to her, swinging his flashlight wildly. The creature pounced onto Jessie and began clawing at her, spitting blood and mucus. Jessie held her hands over her face, desperately trying to push him away. Somewhere deeper in the store was another howl, equal to that of the pokemon.

Foxx grabbed the Primeape and pulled it off Jessie. The pokemon toppled over and quickly scrambled to its feet, drooling mucus. He snarled at Foxx and his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. He charged, like a dog, at the boy and Foxx ended it with a swing of the butt of his flashlight. Their backs were facing the doorway, and behind them shopping carts were crashing over each other. Both spun to see several more pokemon howling as they clamored over each other toward Foxx and Jessie.

"CLOSE THE DOOR!" Jessie demanded, running to it. Foxx met up with her and the two slammed the doors shut. On the other side the beasts clamored and pounded against it. Foxx pressed his back against the doorway as Jessie snatched a broom and lodged it between the handles.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Jessie screeched.

"Is there a way out of here?" Foxx panted, staring at the Primeape on the floor. The pokemon cringed slightly. It was still alive.

"Through here!" Jessie sprinted across the room to the docking bay doors. She squatted down and tried to slip her fingers underneath the metal.

"It's not budging!" she grunted. She glanced over at Foxx, who was frozen in the spot, trying to decide whether or not to reinforce the other door.

"HELP ME GODDAMNIT!" she screeched. Foxx shook out of his daze and assisted Jessie. The door was rusted and had not been moved in several years, it tremored but otherwise did nothing.

"There's gotta be, a, uh,…uh.." Foxx stood up, glancing back at the door supported by the broom handle. It was shaking violently. "A, um.."

"WHAT!" Jessie demanded. She slapped him hard across the face. "FOCUS, GODDAMNIT!"

"There's gotta be a switch..or a lever, or something, right?" Foxx spat out finally. "Start looking for something that will release the door!"

The two of them ran their flashlights along the walls frantically, looking for something to open the door. Behind them the broom was starting to splinter.

"THERE!" Jessie called. She grabbed hold of a lever, covered in cobwebs, and yanked on it. At first it wouldn't budge. Foxx positioned himself in front of the bay doors. After another budge, the lever pulled and the locks on the door released. Together they lifted the bay doors open just as the broom handle was beginning to give.

They scrambled outside and slammed the docking bay doors shut behind them. Inside howls of dismay echoed.

"They'll be coming around soon," Jessie panted. "C'mon, let's go."

Foxx nodded and ran a hand through his sweaty, greasy hair. Without thinking he had touched his wound and yelped.

"C'mon you pussy," Jessie grunted, grabbing his hand. The two of them ran down the street, dodging abandoned traffic. Two blocks away from the store there was a fire escape where they found refuge on top of a building. Down below there were echoing, frantic footsteps and growls along the vacant walls of deserted buildings.

For a moment Jessie and Foxx sat in silence, listening to the infected and their frantic search. The two sat on their haunches, staring out into nothing as the afternoon sun began to give way to evening.

"It's going to be dark soon." Foxx pointed out finally, looking over at Jessie. "Where do you wanna go?"

Jessie frowned, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be hating Foxx's guts.

"We passed a couple windows on the way up," Jessie said, beckoning to the fire escape. "Let's try one of those."

An hour later Foxx was standing in a grimy bathroom gingerly touching his wound. Underneath the patches the cuts had become infected, despite The Rangers' efforts. Foxx relished the irony that the ones whom had inflicted this on him could not at least clean his wounds properly…on the other hand, maybe this is what they wanted, for causing so much trouble.

He sighed and tried to wipe the mirror again. It was peppered in dirt and grime that had developed there over decades. His efforts, both to clean himself and the mirror were fruitless and he balanced his palms against the porcelain of the sink in spite of himself. He must have been transmitting a signal, he figured, because Jessie walked in from the next room.

"C'mon, sit." she ordered softly, beckoning to a couch in the next room.

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to take care of that." Jessie replied simply, ripping a bedsheet in half. Foxx sulked over to the couch where Jessie was sitting and sat down.

"What is this, leather?" he asked, running his hands over the texture of the couch. As if the leather didn't add to his sexual tension toward her-she had drawn the shades and lit small candle near the couch, illuminating the room in a dull, flickering light.

"Whoever lived here was a total bachelor." Jessie mused, glancing at the scented candle but focusing most of her attention on the bedsheet as she ripped it into strips. "There's all kinds of single-guy shit around here."

"Like what?"

"Like kinds of gross shit that I don't wanna talk about," Jessie answered. "Look at me."

Foxx turned his head to face her and she began lining up the sheets with his wound. She frowned.

"We're gonna have to disinfect this." she said softly. There was a bottle of vodka on a nightstand next to the couch that she grabbed and dabbed with another sheet.

"Where'd you get that?" Foxx asked, eyeing the bottle.

"Easy, boy." Jessie said carefully. "Single guy apartment, there's a bunch of booze around here. This liquor will help cleanse it…we'll take care of your other craving later."

Foxx could do nothing but stare at the bottle until the sting of the vodka hit his face. He grimaced.

"You're gonna have to take off your shirt if you don't want this all over you. Either that or sit still, damnit."

Foxx sighed and took off his shirt. He continued to flinch as she rubbed the stinging liquor into his cuts.

Jessie cleaned his wounds and redressed them. When she was done, she turned his head in her hands to make sure the bandages were secure enough.

"They really did a number on you." she observed.

"I'm useless." Foxx blurted out. His gaze turned down to the ground in shame.

"What?"

"This should be the other way around," Foxx continued. "Here YOU are, taking care of ME,"

"Foxx, I'm not babying you or anything-"

"You are," Foxx retorted. "And it's not your fault, it's all mine." he replied. "It's my fault you're traveling with me in the first place. Barry was a fucking asshole, but he was right, we were only gonna slow each other down…that is, I was going to slow YOU down."

Jessie watched him solemnly.

"I told The Rangers that if anybody touched you, I'd kill them-and the first thing that fucking happens when we get into danger, I freeze up! You had to fucking SCREAM at me to get my attention-otherwise we'd both be dead right now." He sighed, trying to hold back tears. "I'm nothing, Jessie, I'm really nothing at all. I'm a fucking alcoholic with nightmares and baggage, and.." he choked, running his hands up into his greasy hair. "..and I'm nothing without a girl who already hates me."

Foxx's head hung and he felt the back of his throat tighten. He had never been tough, he was just an act. He was even reluctant to kill mindless zombies because they reflected people. Jessie cupped his chin in her hand.

"Foxx…I don't hate you," Jessie said softly, and pulled him into a deep kiss.

Foxx clung to her, drawing away for a breath, then in again. Jessie's hands gradually snaked down to his pants and the two fell against the couch, kissing passionately amidst the dim light of the candle. They made love that night as if it would be their last, and when their dance was done, both fell into a deep slumber.

As Foxx slept he dreamt more of the red eyed men… 'The Union', as The Rangers called them. He dreamt of trench coats dragging along the floor as the men with red eyes searched endlessly for him. It was no longer a mystery as to what they were searching for…they were looking for clues…an intuition..a feeling….anything that would lead them to Foxx; the prize at the end of the long maze. In the back of his mind there was a tingling sensation that it wouldn't be long until they found him. They would find him, and they would kill him. They would rape Jessie and kill her, too. When their remains were broken and beaten, they would loot the bodies and leave the rest to the infected and dying.

In the abyss of his slumber the man named Boomer was grinning so wide that his lips were splitting. His eyes were large and devilish, they gleamed under the hot lights as they fixated themselves on Foxx.

Boomer drew the knife its holster at his hip and touched the blade, the scraggly metal drawing blood from his own fingers.

"Please!" Foxx choked. No ropes held him down, yet his limbs refused to work. The knife danced along his skin, brushing over his legs to his abdomen, then to his chest. "PLEASE!"

It sunk in deep, Boomer's grin stretching the muscles in his face, a hideous rumbling in his throat evolving to horrific laughter. Blood seeped from Foxx's wound and he howled in pain, feeling every fiber of muscle rip under the blade as it cut his veins; he was going to die…

In his last ounce of consciousness he gazed long and hard at Boomer, and watched his face twist and conform to match that of a man with glowing red eyes. Darkness bled over his face and as such, a long trunk protruded from his mouth. His head rounded out and became a thick shell, and his body was drenched in a thick cloak. Gloved hands cupped Foxx's chin and stared him in the face with those horrible, awful, glowing red eyes.

"TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!" Boomer demanded, his voice now deep and even more menacing. "YOU KNOW WHO YOU BELONG TO!"

Foxx could only gurgle as blood filled his mouth. Boomer's trunk released from his mouth and opened into wide jaws, filled with jagged teeth. Each tooth was a rusty knife, with blood seeping between them.

Oh god,

oh god

OH GOD…

Foxx awoke the same way he always did.

Sweaty, naked and mildly drunk.

Jessie's hand was placed firmly over his mouth and she was watching the ceiling carefully. Or at least, what Foxx assumed was the ceiling. The room was so dark that he could barely make out the outlines of her face. Slowly he brought his hands up to touch her fingers. She pulled her hand away slowly.

"Someone's upstairs." she whispered.

"We checked." Foxx argued.

"Shh!" she whispered again furiously. The two of them sat in the darkness for another moment. Foxx debated whether or not to put on pants, and also to drink more of that vodka. His head was still buzzing hard from pounding it earlier.

"I told you-"

Above them something was dragging across the floor. Foxx felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on-end. Jessie's hands were icy cold, shivering slightly. He wished that he could comfort her, but after The Rangers and his nightmare, Foxx had not a shred of dignity left. With his one unbandaged eye he watched in a silent horror as dust flicked down from the floorboards above them. A dull thud, and then a drag. Something was pulling itself across the floor above them. A few yards away was the cellar door. Whatever it was, all it had to do was drag itself a few more feet to the right and it would reach the cellar door, pry it open, and feast upon the contents below.

"Foxx…"

"Let's go see." Foxx whispered feverously.

The apartment was a duplex; in the back hallway there was a set of steps leading to the apartment above. How this was managed back in the old days, Foxx would never know, but regardless it didn't make their predicament any easier. Through the door and up the stairs they crept until they arrived at the top floor, a room coated with dust and reeking of mold and other unmentionables.

In his head Foxx queried as to whether someone had been living up here in recent times.

Jessie touched his hand and beckoned to the right. They stood in an entryway, several feet ahead was a hallway with a few rooms branching off. The footsteps had ceased, but there was still audible movement in the room at the far end of the hallway. Foxx stepped in first, refusing to allow his spite for Jessie put her in harms' way. The two crept along the empty hallway full of old pictures and long-since withered plants, and came to the room where the noise was birthed. Inside someone was breathing in choked, wheezing gasps.

Foxx's heart was pounding.

In her nervousness Jessie grabbed his hand.

Foxx wished that he could comfort her, but he was just as frightened as she was. Together they turned the corner.

The room was empty.

Empty except for two large oval eyes drawn on the wall.

Something about it crept down Foxx's spine and shook him deeply.

"We need to go." he whispered.

"What is it?" Jessie demanded. She glanced at him then back at the eyes.

"I don't know." Foxx admitted hurriedly. "We just…we just have to go."

Light seeped into the doorway.

"What the hell?"

Foxx spun on his heel and saw the hallway behind them was filling up with light.

"Someone's outside." Jessie breathed. She pulled Foxx back into the room. The steps creaked and there was audible shuffling downstairs.

"We gotta go, we gotta go," Foxx panted quietly, peering out into the hallway.

Behind him the eyes cast a gaze so cold that he could feel its presence…as though the picture were actually conscious…as if it were watching him.

The white light spread further into the room and Foxx and Jessie ran. They darted into the hallway, down the steps, and back to the apartment where a crowd of figures lying in wait.

Their voices making an odd, deep croak that was unintelligible. In their gloved hands were assault rifles, cocked and at the ready.

It was them.

The men with the red eyes, from Foxx's nightmares.

The gas masks, the glowing embers for pupils.

The long, leather cloaks.

They croaked again and the two clamored back up the steps, through the upstairs duplex. Helicopters roared outside. There was a collective of scrambling footsteps behind them. They darted down the hallway and around the corner, into a small kitchen.

"There's a window-fire escape!" Jessie panted. They scrambled through the window and onto the fire escape. A search light was roaming the area and somewhere at the street level there was the loud hum of engines.

"They have fucking cars?" Jessie shrieked. Foxx couldn't hear her, he was too fixated on the thought of red eyes following him wherever he went. They jumped down to the street level and ran down the dark alley. Jessie tripped and Foxx stumbled as he tried to help her up. Behind them flashlight beams illuminated the walkway and they continued to run.

Foxx's head was spinning from his buzz and he was having increased difficulty running. Though his heart was pounding, he felt as though his legs would give out at any minute. Jessie was fit and conditioned to sprinting, she was already several steps ahead of him before a pair of hands snatched Foxx into the darkness.

He wasn't even able to yelp before a thick glove clamped over his mouth and a familiar smell washed his nostrils.

"It's Boomer. You shut the fuck up and follow me."

He released Foxx's mouth briefly, though his other arm still repressed Foxx tightly.

"But Jessie-!"

"..is running into a trap," Boomer replied simply. "It was either you or her, and since they seem to want you so badly, they'll probably let her go."

"You don't know that!" Foxx hissed. Boomer turned him around roughly.

"You see that?" he pointed from the shadows. Overhead two helicopters were soaring toward Jessie's position. "That's a FUCKING ARMY. There's no way-"

"FUCK YOU!" Foxx spat, ripping away. Before Boomer could react, Foxx sprint toward Jessie, out of the alley, and into the street.

Where Jessie was on her knees before a crowd of cloaked men.

One of them stood before all the others, with a revolver pointed at Jessie's forehead.

"WHERE IS HE?" he croaked. "WHERE IS THE ARK?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Jessie sobbed. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE FUCKING TALKING ABOUT!"

Foxx, still in the shadows, scrambled to find something; anything he could throw. He needed to save her. He needed to save Jessie. He scooped a rock from the ground and hurled it toward the man. In his dizziness, however, his aim was off and the rock clattered away, having missed his target by several feet. Some of the surrounding men looked in the direction of the rock, but otherwise were undisturbed.

They were looking for him.

He had drank too much, he couldn't fight.

He couldn't even hit a close target with a fucking rock.

"I'M HERE!" Foxx yelled, stepping from the shadows.

His declaration was droned out by the roar of a revolver as it sent a bullet through Jessie's skull. The girl collapsed onto the ground immediately, a chunk of her skull missing and a pool of blood gathering beneath it.

"NOOOO!" Foxx howled, running to her. The men, surprised, readied their rifles.

"LOWER YOUR WEAPONS!" the leader ordered swiftly. "It is The Ark!"

Foxx fell to his knees and scooped Jessie into his arms. Her body was limp and lifeless; her eyes had rolled into the back of her head. There were splits in her skull where the round had created distress. Blood was oozing steadily onto his shirt but Foxx couldn't find himself caring less. He hugged her tightly, sobbing.

"By order of The President, you are hereby under arrest-"

"FUCK YOU!" Foxx spat, scrambling to his feet. He stumbled toward the man and swung his fist. He missed and received a hard blow to the jaw. Surprised and hurt, Foxx tumbled back to his haunches, only to scramble back up again.

The man holstered his revolver and grabbed Foxx's wrist. A pair of handcuffs jingled into view.

"You are hereby under arrest for confiding in The Enemy, as well as evading your civic duty to His Holiness-"

"FUCK YOU!" Foxx howled again, sobbing as he collapsed to the ground next to Jessie. Several of the men came forward to pull him back up.

"Save some dignity," The leader retorted. "You don't want your woman to die in vain."

"I'LL KILL YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" Foxx screamed. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"Restrain him!" The leader ordered. The soldiers held Foxx and the leader marched around to face him. Foxx could feel the man's wicked smile creeping behind the gas mask.

"Now son," the man said simply. "We will transport you to back to The Presidential Headquarters, where you will serve His Holiness. Kicking and screaming, You WILL serve your civic duty and to that of the Poke'mon Island Federal Government," he glanced at Jessie's lifeless body on the pavement. Overhead the helicopters were prepping to land. "And through this you will learn a whole new world of pain…far worse than what I've just done to you."

"Then I'll lead by example." a voice erupted from the shadows. A soldier yelped and the men dropped Foxx onto his haunches.

Overhead a helicopter was laying a spotlight on their position. On the edge of it, a soldier yelped as he was pulled into the darkness.

"OPEN FIRE!" The leader commanded. The men fired multiple shots into the darkness. Another soldier yelped and was dragged away. Foxx fidgeted in his handcuffs as he rolled over, desperately trying to see what was going on.

Moments later Boomer seemed to materialize from the shadows, grabbing a third soldier, using his own weight to turn the soldier sideways, and stabbed the man in the back. As remaining soldiers fired, Boomer turned the man against himself as a human shield. He shoved the body at the men and fell back into the shadows.

"SPREAD OUT!" The commander barked. "TURN ON YOUR NIGHTVISION!"

Another helicopter loomed on the horizon. Foxx desperately tried to free himself from the handcuffs, but only succeeded in falling to his side. His face fell right into Jessie's blood. His stomach churned.

Something small clattered to the ground behind him. By the time he looked to see what it was, smoke billowed out of it and the soldiers were firing blinldy. Someone scooped him up and pulled him into the darkness.

"What the fu-?"

"SHUT UP." Boomer said gruffly.

Foxx rubbed his wrists and winced slightly. Boomer had definitely not been gentle when he pulled Foxx away from The Union soldiers. He looked over at his savior who was grunting as he walked, staring forward. He seemed to refuse to look Foxx in the eye as they marched into the parking structure. The sun was just coming over the horizon and Foxx could finally make out the visible damage to Boomer's body.

He was dressed in shards of lean armor that covered his body. Each piece was spray painted black. There were cracks and distresses in it, he had been shot a couple times. Blood was smeared on his suit and though Boomer probably hated him, Foxx couldn't have been more grateful.

"I know what you're thinking," Boomer wheezed as he led Foxx into the parking structure.

"What?"

"You want to thank me for saving your worthless ass," he continued. For a moment Boomer leaned against the wall and stared at Foxx with cold, dead eyes. "Let's get one thing straight…I don't like you, and I never will. The only reason that I saved you is because Surge thinks you're so goddamn important. Are we straight?"

Foxx's gaze turned to the ground.

"Yeah."

They approached a utility door and Boomer knocked three times. A peephole slid open.

"It's me," Boomer said. "I'm hurt, let me in."

They were allowed entry and as they walked inside, Ian Surge was waiting for them.

"How many, Boomer?" he asked.

"Probably 50 or so…really spread out," Boomer replied. "I got 4."

Another man walked up to Ian, about to say something.

"Patch Boomer up." Ian told him. The man nodded and assisted Boomer. When they were alone, Ian rubbed the scruff on his face and simply looked at Foxx, who was too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"I want in." Foxx said finally.

"What do you mean, 'in'?"

"I want to be like you guys…I want to be a Ranger."

Ian smirked and folded his arms.

"And here I thought you had things handled…why the change of heart?"

Foxx finally mustered the courage to look Ian in the eye.

"I don't want to be scared anymore. I don't want to be a pussy about everything." His mind went back to Jessie, laying there in a pool of blood. For a moment he remembered her warmth, her touch…

"Now I have something worth fighting for."

Loved it, hated it, lemme know!


End file.
